


cults weren’t real

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck, Humanstuck - Fandom
Genre: Cults, Drug Use, Humanstuck, M/M, Schizophrenic Gamzee, karkat goes dark carnival, mind break if you wanna squint, they fuck while on drugs what do u want me to say
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24925825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Give me a Karkat answer! Something I can understand!”He huffed and Karkat could almost heard the rusted gears clicking into motion.“I’m gonna feed you drugs and overstimulate you, then you’ll be dark carnival!”
Relationships: Gamzee Makara/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

It was an interest, a hyperfixation due to his schizophrenia, Karkat told himself. 

Gamzee talked about the dark carnival, his mirthful messiahs, all too much for someone with an interest.

Set him off and he wouldn’t shut up, like he was trying to convert you to a religion. 

Well, _he was_. Or, he said he was? Karkat had searched all over the internet for whatever this clown cult was, but turned up jack shit. Religions.. religions don’t just turn up out of anywhere, and cults don’t exist; this was just one of Gamzee’s delusions. 

The crack-fizz of the faygo bottle made his head turn like a magnet. Gamzee’s throat bobbed sharply as he swallowed down the artificial swill, and Karkat’s face pinched in disgust when he gurgled the carbonation back up his throat, blowing out the filth like he would smoke. 

“That was fucking disgusting.”

Gamzee snickered breathily and rolled his head over to Karkat. They were sat crouched against the wall of the park’s toilet block; it was smokers hang. 

“I ain’t see you complaining.”

“You stupid fuck, that _was_ complaining. I _just_ complained.”

Gamzee hummed lowly and turned his head again, drinking deeply from the little bottle. Red pop, it looked tiny in his big hands. 

Burning away in his other hand, the roach they had shared.

Karkat watched the orange ring creep up to his fingers and laughed when it burned him. 

“Fuck-“

He threw it away and it landed in a puddle, a sprout of white smoke darting up into the rain. 

“Why di’nt you warn me, motherfucker? Last burn only just finished healin’,” he complained, looking far too deeply into the gap between his fingers. 

“Why didn’t your mighty messiahs save you?”

He sighed deep, and a tiny blossom of guilt twinged inside of Karkat.

“You still going on ‘bout that, bro?”

Gamzee let his knees roll out and straightened his legs. He was so tall his feet poked out into the rain, where Karkat’s barely came close.

Karkat stayed silent. Delusions were a sensitive thing, he’d read. You weren’t supposed to try and disrupt them, because you could hurt your relationship with the person or they could become violent trying to defend themselves or whatever. A load of bullshit, he knew Gamzee. 

“They’re not real.”

Gamzee laughed, setting the empty bottle down with a tap.

Karkat looked over to him enrapt. They’d talked this over a thousand times, what was once more. 

“They’re real.”

“You’re in denial.”

“It’s mighty rude to insult others’ faiths.”

“It’s a delusion.”

“You know I done got that shit sorted.”

It was true. Gamzee did attend his therapy. He did take his meds. But this was.. cults weren’t real. 

Karkat knew cults _were_ real, when people were stupid and homophobic and god-fearing, but now cults were gone. He wasn’t a fucking baby. 

“Cults aren’t real.”

“Sure they are. This ain’t a motherfuckin’ cult though.”

Karkat’s breath hitched and he exhaled aggressively. 

“Where’s your proof?”

The clown’s eyes followed his face as Karkat stood up and stretched his legs a bit. He felt worked up and needed to release some energy, he told himself. 

“Of what?”

“Your shitty religion!”

The juggalo’s face was soft features, a pudgy face and rounded nose, but it still managed to melt into a smile under those three grisly scars. 

“I can help you experience it?”

That sounded so fucking cult-esque Karkat almost noped the fuck out right there right then. 

“Fuck it. Sure.”

“..Why are you doing this now?”

The pair were walking back to Gamzee’s house, both too poor to afford cars, with their hands in their pockets and their hoods up. The rain was thinning but it was still wet out, and the air was bitter and cold. 

“Doin’ what?”

“Why put up with my- my bitching and whining for.. _fuck_ knows how many months at this point, if you could just bring me and show me your cult anyways?”

Gamzee slipped a little on a puddle and caught himself, a smile on his face and the rims of his sweatpants wet. 

“I ain’t bringing you nowhere motherfucker, I’m lettin’ you experience the dark carnival.”

Okay. So. Fuck if that didn’t raise more questions than answers.

“I have _so_ many more questions, Gam.”

He turned and looked at Karkat dopily. 

“Give me a Karkat answer! Something I can understand!”

He huffed and Karkat could almost heard the rusted gears clicking into motion. 

“I’m gonna feed you drugs and overstimulate you, then you’ll be dark carnival!”

With the blackout curtains pulled shut, the purple-walled bedroom was like a cosy void, no single colour, everything moving with the shadows; they were sitting on the floor, away from the beasts in the walls. 

Gamzee’s finger was cold on his lip, he pulled it down and idly peeled at the chapped skin as he was turned away; Karkat whined and he stopped with a smile that was only noticed by his cheeks raising. 

A moment later, he raised a greasy finger. The mixture was gritty, like viscous baby oil and fine glitter, and neon green. Delectable. 

“Sopor slime,” he announced. Karkat nodded like a news anchor analysing bullshit figures. 

Holding Karkat’s rawed lip down, he smeared it over the insides of his gums, near his back teeth. 

Gamzee’s fingers tasted like dirt and sweet, tangy brightness. 

It wasn’t immediate, but the cold numbing sensation set in faster than the burn of the high. 

It sunk into his jaw bone, ached emptily and he was having his drool wiped by Gamzee before he realised his mouth was gaping. 

“You’ll catch flies, motherfucker.” 

Gamzee was so much taller than Karkat as he bounced forward onto his knees. 

Pushing his mouth shut slightly with a fist to his chin, Gamzee pressed his lips to Karkats and hummed when he caught up with the clown. 

Sopor slime was an accelerant, but it made you feel slow and woozy if you weren’t used to it; like time was taking off without you. 

Good, he thought, as Gamzee pushed himself away from Karkat; he was rubbing his closed mouth now, smiling at the sensation. 

Gamzee curled in on himself as he fiddled with his phone and-  there was music now.

“Why’re we listening to music?”

“Halls of illusions, you gotta listen to the tunes to see it right.”

** -comes wicked, painful and slow.. **

Karkat blinked and Gamzee’s hands were on him. He was cooler than Karkat but it was nice because he was so warm. 

Fuck, he was really warm. He needed to..

Ah, he took his shirt off! Thanks Karkat, you’re welcome Karkat. 

** At the hands of Milenko! **

Gamzee’s lips are pressing easily against Karkat’s, and he thinks that Gamzee doesn’t realise he feels his tongue swiping across his teeth. Probably trying to get sopor in his mouth too, fucking _thief_. 

Karkat is still so warm, especially now that Gamzee has pushed him down and is covering him like a blanket, his hot tongue on his neck. 

Karkat lets his fingers loosely travel to his own zipper, and this distracts Gamzee enough that he helps take his pants off. 

** Great Milenko, wave your wand! **

He realises the drug must’ve kicked in in third person and moans, both because _fuck that was fast_ and because Gamzee just peeled his semi out of the window of his boxer briefs. 

His hands are cold and wet as he jerks him off roughly; it feels soothing and cools him off.

** This is all because of you! **

Focusing on the music through his fog of stimulation, Karkat starts to cry. The tears well up and things become soft and blurry, he mumbles to himself thinking that no one can hear. 

“Because of me?-“

Gamzee laughs breathily though, and croons softly at him. His other hand on Karkat’s head is so reassuring he cries harder. 

“Don’t worry bro, you can’t help it. ‘S not your fault.” 

His words make Karkat feel meek, he’s humping up into Gamzee’s hand and crying like a bitch. 

He feels taken care of. 

** Great Milenko- **

Cold lube is worked into him and Karkat jerks, groaning hard and writhing. Kurloz can probably hear him. 

“Careful bro, here we go..”

And Gamzee pushes inside of him with all of the grace of someone swinging an axe. 

** Wave your wand! **

It’s hard and rough and his brain is goopy and melting and all Karkat knows how to do is hold onto the ground and cry, moaning words he’s never heard before outside of this music.

“Please, please, fuck-“

** This is all- **

His thrusting is making Karkat’s vision blur. Things are melting into a big purple palette and Gamzee’s bright eyes watching him so close.

Gamzee drags himself out and slams back inside in a languid roll, and Karkat’s breath hitches so hard he chokes on his tears.

To fix him, Gamzee sticks his tongue in his mouth. Gamzee’s being so kind. 

** Because of you! **

This fucking Milenko dude isn’t though. Karkat scowls as much as he can for someone with a tongue in their mouth and dick in their ass and sobs hard into Gamzee’s mouth. 

It’s his fault, but Gamzee said he couldn’t help it, but _it’s his fault._

It’s his fault. 

“Shh bro, you’re so close!”

His voice is like a lighthouse, and Karkat’s eyes open to the purple and grey of the walls falling in on him. 

He curses and jumps, wrapping his arms around Gamzee’s neck; he drags Karkat’s thighs into his lap and grinds into him deep.

“What the- fuck..”

Gamzee’s hands are trying to smoosh their chests together, like sticking two melted marshmallows together so they’ll be one forever. He’s hooked his chin over Karkats shoulder and it feels like he’s truly holding him together, otherwise he’d fall apart and die. 

“Shush motherfucker, I got you.”

The music dies off into another verse and Karkat feels like a spectator, sat outside of reality. 

His life is in Gamzee’s hands, who is now grey. Karkat is grey too. 

He doesn’t register Gamzee’s moaning as he finishes inside of Karkat, and drops him onto his back again, because he’s too busy marvelling in fear at the jagged spikes of bonfire orange protruding from his skull. 

Gamzee is panting and he has too many teeth. His eyes are yellow. His dick is purple as it fights against being shoved back into his pants. 

He catches Karkat’s tear-filled eyes and smirks something lazy and knowing. 

“You there, motherfucker?”

“You..”

“I..”

Karkat just sobs again, bringing up two grey, clawed hands to wipe at his terrified tears. 

Gamzee’s patting his cheeks as he pulls him into his arms, shushing him. 

“Go to sleep, Karbro. ‘S obviously too much for y’.”

Even if his resolve is crumbling and he is shaking with fear, he trusts Gamzee’s voice and lets this troll cradle him.

He closes his eyes so tight he doesn’t have to look at his own grey hands on his chest.  
  


He falls asleep to the coo’s and croons of... Gamzee.   
“You did so well motherfucker.. we can sharpen them there horns for y’... just sleep now..”

And he does. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Story of The Signless

He doesn’t scramble awake panting and crying in Gamzee’s arms, because he’s in Gamzee’s bed. 

The sheets are kicked across the mattress and there are only two feet under it; Karkat is alone. 

That thought is actually more infuriating than it is terrifying — because friends usually wouldn’t leave their drugged and napping friends in their bed, in a house they’re nervous in, _alone_ — but Karkat can’t find it in him to be angry at Gamzee. 

He can’t find it in him to be _anything_ at Gamzee, actually. 

Groaning, he wipes a smear of cold sweat from under his hairline and fingers through his hair. There was no doubt he looked like shit. 

The house wasn’t quiet, there was the high hum of thumping music from Kurloz’s room’s direction and 

loud steps downstairs, along with clattering and general kitchen noises. 

“Fuck,” he cursed. 

What should he do? Wait awkwardly until Gamzee came back, if at all? Try to go back to sleep and reencounter this problem in another hour or so? Go and find Gamzee, and possibly embarrassing himself infront of Kurloz or _god forbid_ Mister Grand High Makara? 

Hell no.

Karkat swung both legs off the bed — backside aching as he sat up — and grabbed for his phone, sat, on charge, on the bedside cabinet. 

He texted quickly to Gamzee that he was up and alone and that he **‘WANTS TO SEE HIS CLOWNY ASS UP HERE IN 5 MINUTES BEFORE I ABSCOND THROUGH THE FUCKING WINDOW.’**

After demanding his best friends presence, Karkat tried to make himself decently presentable in the front camera of his phone with two hands and a fear of being underdressed in the Makara household. 

“Good motherfuckin morning, my invertibrother!”

Gamzee called out as he bumped open the door with a too-large slipper. 

Karkat hadn’t prepared for the awkward feeling that encased him after seeing Gamzee again after last night. 

“Hey Gam,” he replied, deciding to leave the talking till later. 

Gamzee was especially good at avoiding serious topics, because in his hands was a silver platter with two plates of what looked like apple pie; even though Gamzee preached his baking skills to the high heavens, the filling had an oily sheen and the crust was burnt. 

“How did you get your sleep on, man?”

He set the platter with four little legs on the ground in front on the bed and sat. Karkat had had the decency to make the bed, but the way Gamzee collapsed down onto it made it seem like he wouldn’t have minded if Karkat had shredded the pillows like a rabid dog and pissed.

“It was fine, and what’s up with this guy?”

Karkat kicked lazily at the legged platter and Gamzee laughed embarrassedly.

“The old man,” and pointed downwards, through the floor, “thinks good breakfast makes happy guests, so he gets all fancy with the prep,” he kicked at it as well, “I done named this one Caliborn. Picked him out special for you.”

“Caliborn? Why?”

Gamzee leaned down, passing Karkat one of the plates up. 

“Look,” he angled the tray up. It had the face of a very angry gargoyle with two swirled cheeks, teeth bared.

Even though it was a metal platter, one of the teeth was very obviously superglued back in. Probably for fan-work source referencing, but who knows. 

“Fuck, Gam, I know I look like shit but you didn’t have to point it out.”

He laughed openly at that, coughing and wheezing through a bite of pie. 

“Nah- no, you’re both pissy as shit.”

“It is a _platter_ ,” Karkat deadpanned.

“I gave him a personality! ‘Nd Calliope downstairs is real sweet, they’re brother n’ sisters.”

Karkat stuffed his mouth to keep from smiling dopily. 

They sat in a semi-comfortable silence eating their (undeniably tasty) pies, both kicking at Caliborn until he was out of reach. The shit Gamzee came up with, huh?

“So,” Karkat cleared his throat and set his plate down.

The juggalo turned to face him, lounging back on the bed. 

“Last night,” Karkat began.

“Last night,” Gamzee parroted.

Karkat grimaced tentatively, scratching the back of his neck. 

He didn’t know what he wanted to talk about, he just knew he needed to. 

It’s not like they hadn’t tried out new drugs together before — they were close as _fuck_. Close enough _to_ fuck. 

Karkat tried to form a starting sentence in his head, but the more he dwelled on what had happened the harder his dick got and the more welcoming Gamzee looked, spread out across the bed like a silver platter. 

He bunched his thighs together and squeezed his dick in place, biting something out. 

“What’s my fault?”

Gamzee’s relaxed expression coloured curious; “what d’you mean?”

Karkat inhaled sharply, “‘ _This is all because of you_ ,’ from the song you were playing- what’s my fault?”

For a moment, blankness, before his face lit up in something Karkat couldn’t place; It was tantamount to how you’d react to a child making a funny little mistake. 

“Oh, that!”

He pushed himself up and sat on his knees. 

“Do you wanna know the story of the Signless?”

Now it was time for Karkat to blank, before his eyebrows dropped in frustration. 

“ _No_ , what’s my fault?” He repeated with growing annoyance. 

“ _Trust me_ , bro, just listen.”

He crawled up next to Karkat on the bed, and pulled out his phone. 

Karkat swung an arm around Gamzee’s shoulder and watched as he went into the notes app, and read along with Gamzee’s speaking. 

“The Signless was a heretic, in every sense of the word.“

“His veins ran ablaze with thick, warm candy red; a mutation so rare he was left blank of name and sign. He was a troll in biology but not in creed.”

Karkat opened his mouth to question- _troll_? But Gamzee’s free hand shot up and tried to twist around and cover his mouth. 

Smiling and sticking his tongue to Gamzee’s hand, he closed his mouth again. 

“The apostate travelled the land, speaking under the market stalls about equality and a class uprising that would never come.”

“He gained followers, desperate and delusional citizens willing to give their life for his. He manipulated troll un-remorsefully for his own gain.”

“At the height of his teachings, he was caught and held for trial; it was no longer a matter of whether he would be put to the irons, but how hot they would be if he failed to recant.”

A shiver ran through Karkat’s gut.

“And so, when his wrists shackled and he was exposed for the unbeliever he was, his flesh was torn from him as was the truth.”

“The Signless’s message twisted into a burning cacophony of rage, a deep-seated hatred for trollkind and the very cosmos it dwelled in. 

He expelled his fury in a single word, his last sermon; the Vast Expletive.”

Karkat was crying, a sick guilt wracking through him with every sob.

“His cult diminished after his death, being sold into slavery and exiled. It is said his ancestors would be able to decode the truth of his teachings.”

Gamzee clicked his phone off and slinked an arm under Karkat’s, and pulled the man into his arms. 

“Shh, shush now ‘Kat. You couldn’t choose your ancestors. Don’t be crying so much.”

“What does it mean?”

“‘S your ancestor.”

“But— but I’m not a troll?”

“Naw, neither ‘s anyone anymore. Lady Condesce brought us all to Earth, ‘n we adapted.”

“Lady Condesce?”

Gamzee pulled back and shuffled infront of Karkat, grabbing his face in his large palms. 

“It’s almost over, ‘Kat. The 612 years are almost done, and we’re alive to see her.”

At this point, Karkat was shaking and wailing, gripping onto Gamzee’s wrists for dear life as his gut lurched again. 

“See who?”

Gamzee’s pupils were blown as his sclera’s saturated a sickly jaundiced yellow, his skin shrivelled a purple-hued grey and Karkat screamed with a torn throat as the bright candy corn horns splintered out of his skull. 

“I’ve transformed us, ‘Kat. She’ll be here soon, and you’ll kneel at her boots for what Signless did; just needed a lil something to start you.”

Rocking, he screamed again and head-butted into Gamzee’s shoulder. He was so, so empty and so, so fucking _sorry_. 

He barely heard the broken shout and the thud of Kurloz tackling Gamzee onto the ground, the jarring warble of Caliborn the Platter is what caught his attention. 

The platter was spiralling, and thick candy red blood was pouring out of the torn metal where half of the legs had bent under the weight of two Makara’s fighting on top of it. Karkat felt like he and Caliborn had something in common at that. 

“No! No, he’s a fucking mutant, he’s lower than low, why do you want him?!” 

Gamzee was writhing underneath Kurloz, who looked like he was having no trouble at all holding him down. 

Kurloz didn’t respond, only flapped some signs at Karkat’s tear-stained face. 

Gamzee was grunting and cursing and it was fucking terrifying; his voice was shaking and cracking like he was crying, but it was still raspy and overflowing with what could only be raw anger. 

It reminded ‘Kat of the story of the Signless, Gamzee was furious. 

He only shook out of his drugged haze momentarily as the Makara father slammed the bedroom door open with such force, Karkat could feel the wall shake from across the room. 

Kurloz tapped out at his arrival, and if he was scared he wasn’t showing it. 

It all happened so fast, Gamzee stopped writhing and noticed his father, and he had scrabbled towards Karkat like a man trying to escape an executioner. 

He couldn’t though, because Kurloz was infront of Karkat now, obscuring what he could see of Gamzee’s forced removal. 

The last thing he heard was his friend crying out for him, before he was dropping into Kurloz’s arms, choking on Kurloz’s fingers and his own vomit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no smut, but :)

**Author's Note:**

> *shakes this fic like a bag of treats* comment for second chapter... *shake shake* kudos appreciated..... *shakeshakeshake*


End file.
